


Metaphorically Speaking

by neko_fish



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Spoilers, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 14:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neko_fish/pseuds/neko_fish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After everything that's happened, Jim reconnects with his crew and with Bones.</p><p> </p><p> <em><strong>Contains many, many STID spoilers.</strong></em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Metaphorically Speaking

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Используя метафоры](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10499832) by [dyster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyster/pseuds/dyster), [Werner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werner/pseuds/Werner)



He dreams of trembling hands clasped around his.  
   
They’re familiar and warm—so warm.  
   
His consciousness is returning to him and for a moment, he’s afraid to open his eyes. Dead. He’s supposed to be dead, isn’t he? When he opens his eyes, what will he see?  _Who_  will he see? Pike? His father? He’s suddenly hit by the realization that as much as he’d like to see them, he’s not ready to.  
   
With a soft groan, he forces his eyes to open only to be blinded by light. Blinking and waiting for his vision to readjust, he’s greeted by an unfamiliar room but a familiar voice. “Don’t be so melodramatic. You were  _barely_ dead.”  
   
Relief floods him and he releases the breath he’d been holding. He feels like crying because to him, hearing that voice means he’s  _alive_. He’s alive even though he remembers  _dying_. So caught up in the thought, he nearly misses Leonard’s explanation of how it happened—something about Khan’s blood—but he finds that he doesn’t care as much as he probably should because he can feel his heart beating in his chest and blood rushing through his veins. He’s never felt more alive.  
   
“Are you feeling homicidal, power-mad, or despotic?” Leonard asks him.  
   
Jim turns his attention back to Leonard and takes a moment to admire his pristine white uniform. His lips twitch. “No more than usual.” He wants to comment on how haggard his CMO looks with those bags under his eyes and his pale complexion, the man’s clearly overworked him again. But before he can say anything else, Spock shows up and different kind of relief fills him.  
   
Alive—he’s alive and his crew’s alive.  
   
Mid-conversation, he glances over at Leonard who’s fiddling around with something while eyeing his vitals, and for a moment he could’ve sworn he saw the man’s hands tremble. He quickly dismisses it as his imagination because Leonard McCoy has the steadiest hands out of everyone he’s ever known.  
   
When Spock leaves, he opens his mouth, but before he can utter a single syllable, he gets cut off by Leonard, “That’s enough excitement for one day. You need to rest now, Jim.”  
   
At the mention of rest, Jim automatically yawns in response. “Like you should be talking. You look like shit, Bones. Go get some sleep.”  
   
“…yeah. Yeah, I’ll come check on you later,” Leonard replies after a pause. “You better still be in bed or I’ll have you strapped down until your release date.”  
   
Something about the man’s behaviour makes him uneasy. Was it the treatment? He crosses it out because if there were and known side-effects, he would’ve been informed already. Was it his daredevil stunt? Maybe. The lack of complaining and grumbling was definitely a telltale sign that it was serious—but then again, he  _did_  nearly die and in terms of seriousness, that’s kind of hard to compete with.  
   
He’ll talk to Leonard about it when he gets the chance, he decides before sleep overtakes him.  
   
That night, once again, he dreams of those quivering hands.  
   
\--  
   
Over the next few days, one by one, the rest of his crew come to visit him with strict time restrictions set in place by his CMO. Seeing them makes his heart swell with warmth, pride, and guilt. They all take their turns to have a moment with their captain, to see with their own eyes that he’s truly alive. The first is Scotty who enters the room with an uncharacteristically sombre expression on his face. “Captain….”  
   
Jim sits up a little, careful not to trigger anything that would send Leonard running back into the room. “I’m off-duty right now. Don’t look at me like that, Scotty. You saved all of us. You pulled through when no one else could. We all owe you our  _lives_.”  
   
“No, lad, I shouldn’t have resigned in the first place.”  
   
Shaking his head, he tells the man, “You were right and I should’ve listened. I’m sorry. You weren’t in the wrong, I was.” The apology comes to him easier than expected with his pride—no, his _arrogance_  stepping down from the throne it once sat on because he’s seen the damage it can do. Pike had been right. Amidst the madness and confusion, so desperate to be a hero, to prove himself infallible to the world, he’d pushed away and needlessly risked the lives of hundreds of people—of his only family. “I’m so sorry, Scotty.”  
   
“Don’t apologize. It shoulda never gotten that far. Ye shouldn’t’ve had to give your life for us,” Scotty whispers, a haunted tone in his voice, “I watched you die, Jim.”  
   
He remembers.  
   
He remembers Spock in front of him and Scotty watching from behind. He remembers the pain in his chest, how hard it was to breathe, and the  _fear_. The mind numbing fear as the darkness closed in all around him. He’d been so sure he wasn’t going to make it. Shaking those thoughts out of his head, he says, “But I made it.”  
   
And Scotty finally laughs; it’s weak but genuine. “Aye. That you did, ye crazy man.”  
   
\--  
   
Next is Sulu who he has nothing but praises for. They spend some time discussing the news and the state of Starfleet and his crew. Sulu tells him about the fate of Admiral Marcus, dishonourably discharged even after death, and Khan. “They cryogenically froze him. He’s gone back to sleep. He’s been locked away somewhere with the rest of his crew.”  
   
He’s still not sure how he feels about Khan, about the man whose blood saved his life. Surely, a man who could shed tears and was willing to risk so much for his crew couldn’t be completely evil. Jim wonders if he’s any better than Khan. The man had killed and threatened the lives of innocent people for the sake of his crew while  _he’d_  put his own crew on the line and used the death of the victims as an excuse to break the rules.  
   
But then he remembers that Sulu’s still in the room and grins. “Speaking of Khan, showing nothing but calmness and badassery in the face of mortal danger, you’re one hell of a guy, Sulu.”  
   
Sulu smiles. “Thank you, sir. Exciting as that was, I think I’d rather not go through something like that again anytime soon.”  
   
Jim nods. “You and me both.”  
   
\--  
   
When he sees Chekov’s face, he’s immediately bombarded by guilt. He remembers the horrified look the boy shot him when Jim ordered him to put on a red shirt and report to engineering. “Keptin, I hope you are feeling better?”  
   
Jim dips his head. “Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better. Thanks.” He takes a deep breath. “Listen, Chekov, I’m sorry for putting you in a situation you were clearly uncomfortable with and I’m going to try my best to not let it happen again. But I want you to know that you did a great job. I knew I could count on you. And you even saved me and Scotty’s lives. Thank you.”  
   
Beaming at the praise, Chekov shakes his head. “Not at all, Keptin. I was very happy to help!—but I think I will be more help on the bridge next time?”  
   
He can’t help but laugh. “Agreed. Let’s leave engineering to Mr. Scott from now on, shall we?”  
   
\--  
   
The next day, Uhura shows up and surprises him with a hug.  
   
He smiles. “So I heard that you had a hand in saving my life. Doing something like that, if you’re not careful, people might think that you don’t actually find me as annoying as you say you do. I always knew you were glaring at me out of love and affection.”  
   
“Don’t push it, Kirk,” she tells him with a glare, but there’s nothing but fondness behind the gesture.  
   
“I really owe you one, Uhura, I mean it. Thank you. I wouldn’t be here without you,” he tells her.  
   
“I was there when you died,” she whispers, and she has the same haunted look in her eyes that Scotty did, only hers are now misty and wet with tears. “Don’t you dare do something stupid like that again or I’ll bring you back to life just to kill you myself.”  
   
Died.  
   
People keep using that word like he actually died. He reaches up and brushes the tears away with a weak smile. “Look on the bright side. If I die, there’ll be no one around to annoy you all the time.”  
   
Uhura scowls at him. “Don’t say that. You may be annoying, but you’re family. Do you understand?”  
   
Taken aback by her words, he swallows hard and nods.  
   
Later, when she leaves, Jim sees her talking to Leonard in the hallway, solemn expressions on their faces as they both look down at something. The man says something and shakes his head and gives him a sympathetic kiss on the cheek before leaving.  
   
He frowns, wanting to ask about what they were talking about, but instead, he says, “How come you get a kiss on the cheek and all I get is a lecture? _I’m_  the patient here, aren’t I?”  
   
“Don’t be such an infant and get some sleep,” is the only response he gets before there’s a sharp pinching sensation at his neck and the world fades to black.  
   
\--  
   
Jim dreams of Pike that night in his drug-induced sleep. The makeshift father-figure who’d extended a hand to him when the world refused to. “You were right,” is the first thing he tells the man. “I made mistakes—so many mistakes, and they nearly got everyone killed.” When the man doesn’t reply, he continues, “I think you were right about me not being ready to be captain.”  
   
“And what about now?” Pike asks him. “Do you feel you’re ready now?  
   
He hesitates, confidence wavering. “I’m not sure anymore. I was selfish and overconfident, and I put so many lives at risk. I let my better judgment be clouded by everything that happened, and even though so many people tried to talk me out of it—even though I should’ve listened to them, I didn’t. I ignored them all. It must’ve been so easy for Marcus and Khan to  _use_  me.”  
   
Pike places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “That’s exactly why each ship has a  _crew_ , Jim. They’re there to help you through any situation.”  
   
“Yeah, I understand that now,” he says, meaning every word. “But after what I’ve done and what I put them through….”  
   
“Sounds to me like you’re finally figuring out what it means to be a leader. It’s not all fun and games, Jim. The confidence and trust of the crew comes with experience, both good and bad. It’s a slow process, but it’s  _earned_ , I think you’ve come to understand that. As a captain, you’ll achieve greatness yet.”  
   
Jim gulps, trying to push the lump in his throat down. “What if I can’t? What if I’m still not ready?”  
   
“Do you trust the judgment of your crew, Jim?” Pike asks him.  
   
He nods. “Of course.”  
   
“Then trust their judgment now. They’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and they still believe in you; they're all  _choosing_  to stand by your side, under your command. I mean, they can’t _all_ be wrong—even _Spock’s_ chosen to follow your lead which is saying something. They’re your family now, Jim, learn to rely on them. No captain can sail alone.”  
   
“What about you?” he asks. “I trust your judgment as well. What do you think?”  
   
Pike smiles and claps him on the shoulder, fondness shining in his eyes. “I’ve always believed in you. Like I said, if anyone deserves a second chance, it’s Jim Kirk. You’ve come a long way from being the only genius-level repeat offended in the Midwest, Captain Kirk. I’m proud of you, son.”  
   
He wakes up with tears in his eyes.  
   
\--  
   
A few days later, he gets into an argument with Leonard about letting him leave despite knowing full well that it’s already set to the earliest possible release date. Half-hearted as the entire disagreement is, it puts his mind at ease to hear his CMO’s annoyed rant.  
   
“Dammit, Jim! All those journalists are out there just waiting to tear you apart!” Leonard protests. “I’m not about to throw you into a piranha-infested basin armed with nothing but a slab of meat!—what the hell are you smiling at?”  
   
Jim blinks and reaches up to trace his lips with his fingers, unaware that his lips had curled into a grin. “Nothing, just you and your obscure metaphors. Didn’t piranhas go extinct decades ago?”  
   
“They didn’t go extinct, they morphed into what we call the media,” Leonard mutters. “Some might call it evolution, but they’re still the same vicious little bastards as far as I’m concerned.”  
   
He worries the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. “C’mon, Bones, it can’t be  _that_  bad. I’ve been awake and stuck here for nearly a week already! I bet I can sneak back to my place without anyone noticing. Here’s a metaphor for you: I’ll be sneaky like a—wait, that’s a simile, not a metaphor—whatever, you know what I mean.”  
   
Leonard rolls his eyes but he has a small smile on his face. “Nice try but absolutely not. If I release you then I might as well be sending a tin man out into a lightning storm.”  
   
“Alright, alright! I get it! Enough with the metaphors!” Jim frowns when he takes a closer look at the bags under the man’s eyes. “Have you gotten any sleep at all these past few weeks?”  
   
“Hmm? Yeah, ‘course,” Leonard says, turning away from him to check his charts for the umpteenth time. “All medical staff were called in and it was pretty hectic with half the city destroyed and all, but we’ve managed to get everything mostly under control since then. Seriously, and I used to think my shifts were bad.”  
   
“Bones,” he whines, wanting to bring the conversation back to his release, “I’m sick of being stuck here! Can’t I get an early release for good behaviour? I didn’t try to jump out the window even once! When  _is_  my release date anyway? I promise I won’t get caught by metaphorical piranhas or lightning storms! Besides, even if I get caught and ripped apart, they’ll just bring me back here for you to fix up, right? And I’m pretty sure there’s a limit to how many near-death experiences you’re allowed to have within a month.”  
   
The change in the room’s atmosphere’s so sharp it makes the hairs on his arms stand on end. “I didn’t fix you and you weren’t just nearly dead,” Leonard says, barely above a whisper.  
   
Jim blinks. “What are you talking about, Bones?”  
   
Leonard turns around, his voice tight with emotion. “You were dead, Jim. There’s no metaphor here—you were a corpse in a body bag on my operating table, beyond help and beyond hope. If it wasn’t for that tribble—we had to put you into one of those cryotubes to preserve your brain as best we could. It was Khan’s blood that saved you and nothing else—not skills or intelligence, just luck. It was a fucking miracle. There’s no way you could’ve survived that much radiation without his blood. You were brave and reckless and you  _died_ , and I couldn’t do anything, I couldn’t save you, Jim. Going into the warp core chamber of all places….”  
   
“But, Bones, you know I had to do it,” he says, pushing his guilt aside because he’s speaking the truth.  
   
Letting out a hollow laugh, Leonard runs through his hair and takes in a shaky breath. “Yeah, I know you had to, Jim. You and your goddamn saviour complex.”  
   
“It was either me or the crew—and I’m alive now, aren’t I? I’m sorry, okay!?”  
   
“You just don’t get it, do you? This isn’t about getting an apology from you. You did the right thing, I know you did—fuck, the whole  _world_  knows you did—but you were  _dead_ , Jim.”  
   
He frowns. “So you keep telling me! Would you rather I let everyone on board die!?”  
   
“Maybe,” is the quiet answer, “maybe I would’ve preferred to spend my last moments with you than have you turn up dead on my table.”  
   
Jim freezes. They’d never put a name to what they had—to what they still have. More than best friends but not quite lovers, and oh so many strings attached. They never talk about it because they’re both awkward with discussing these things, and it’d never occurred to Jim that Leonard would want anything more, until now. He looks over at the man, stunned. “Bones….”  
   
Leonard takes a step back with wide eyes and shakes his head. “Forget it. I was just—you know what? Ignore me. I didn’t mean it. I was just being stupid. Forget I said anything.” His comm goes off and he looks down and begins to make his way to the door. “Look, I’ve got other patients to see. You’re getting released tomorrow so—just sit tight and behave, alright?”  
   
And then he’s gone, leaving Jim to contemplate his words.  
   
\--  
   
The next day, M’Benga shows up to free him, so to speak. “Commander Spock and Lieutenant Uhura will be here to escort you back home in a minute, Captain.”  
   
Jim looks around and asks, “Where’s Doctor McCoy?”  
   
“He’s probably at home, sir. He was forced to take the next few days off,” M’Benga explains. “I’ve lost track of how many days he’s been here already.”  
   
“Ah,” he says with a slow nod, unable to keep the disapproval and affection out of his voice, “can’t really say I’m surprised. It’s just his way of coping. I swear, that man’s going to work himself to death one day.”  
   
“Captain, are you ready to depart?” Spock’s voice interjects. “Lieutenant Uhura has parked the car in the back so as to avoid the journalists in the front. The most efficient route would be to take the staff-only turbolift down to the main floor. With Doctor M’Benga’s help, I believe we will be able to reach the car in three minutes and forty-six seconds.”  
   
He smiles and steps forward. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s get out of here.”  
   
Once in the car and well away from the hospital, Spock turns around from the passenger seat and asks him, “Do you have a destination in mind, Captain?”  
   
“I’m off-duty right now, we're all off-duty right now so just call me Jim,” he protests.  
   
Ignoring him, Spock continues, “I was given specific instructions to escort you back to your apartment; however, Nyota strongly implied that there is another destination you would prefer to go to.”  
   
Uhura shoots him a pointed look via the rear mirror.  
   
“Yeah, there’s somewhere else,” he mutters after a little hesitation. “Turn right at the next light, would you? I need to see Bones.”  
   
\--  
   
Standing in front of Leonard’s door, he pauses and wonders briefly whether he should use the chime or not. Furrowing his brows, he frowns and mentally kicks himself at the thought. They were roommates before anything else, so as far as he’s concerned, he has every right to barge in and intrude on the man’s privacy like he used to back in the academy. Punching in the key—the same one Leonard uses for everything despite Jim’s advice to do otherwise—he lets himself in.  
   
It’s not a very large apartment, and he finds his friend on the couch in old civilian clothes, curled up and nursing a tumbler of bourbon. Without looking up, Leonard says, “I thought this kind of intrusion of privacy would end after we moved out of the dorms.”  
   
 Shoving his hands into his pockets and making his way over, Jim shrugs. “If you really wanted privacy, then maybe you should’ve changed your code like I told you to.” Standing in front of the man, he says, “I was dead.”  
   
“You were dead,” Leonard repeats without looking at him, bringing the glass up to his lips and emptying it in one gulp. He puts the empty tumbler down and folds his hands in his lap. “I lost you, Jim.”  
   
It’s only then that he notices Leonard’s hands, the same hands that have fixed him so many times he’s lost count. “Bones, your hands….”  
   
Leonard lets out a weak laugh. “They shake when I’m not working, when I’m not focussing on stuff. I can’t stop it. They’ve been shaking since—never mind, forget it.”  
   
“Since I died?” he fills in, remembering the trembling touch in his dreams. Crouching down, he looks up at the man.  
   
“Yeah. So much for having the steadiest hands on board, huh?” Leonard mutters, glaring at his quivering hands. “Dammit, Jim, I’m exhausted, but I can’t even close my eyes without seeing you in that body bag. I just….”  
   
Wrapping his hands around Leonard’s, Jim can feel them trembling and it makes his heart clench. All this happened because of his mistakes and selfishness. “Bones, it’s okay now. It’s all over.”  
   
“I just wish you gave me a chance to fix you,” Leonard blurts out. “I’ve mostly come to terms that you’re probably not going to live as long as the average human being, and that one of these days, you’re going to die that goddamn hero’s death like you always wanted, but damn it all to hell if you think I’m just gonna sit around and watch like some helpless child. I’m a doctor, dammit, the least you can do is let me do my job.  
   
“They put you on my table in a fucking  _body bag_  and there was nothing I could do for you. You didn’t give me a chance to help you, you didn’t give me a chance to say goodbye. You were just… _gone_ , Jim, I lost you, and I didn’t know what to do. I’ll follow you into the darkness and back, you know I will, and I’ll keep you alive and healthy in any way I can. I can cure diseases and mend broken bones, but I can’t cure death, Jim. So the next time you pull a stupid stunt like this, at least give me a chance to do  _something_. You and your goddamn reckless fearlessness—”  
   
“I was scared,” Jim admits, cutting Leonard off.  
   
Taken aback, misty hazel eyes blink. “What?”  
   
“I’m not fearless, I'm far from it. I was scared, Bones,” he confesses, “—fucking  _terrified_. I can’t be like Spock and cut off my emotions at will. Like you said, I’d be lucky to see my 100 th birthday, and I probably won’t die peacefully in my sleep, but when I was in that chamber, in those last moments, I didn’t want to die, not yet. I wasn’t ready to leave this world. Spock and Scotty were there, and I could hear Spock’s voice, but not yours. I was unconscious before the decontamination was done—before I got to hear your voice and I was so convinced that it was the end of the line for me.”  
   
“What are you talking about? There wasn’t anything I could do even after you were brought in. At least you had those two with you….”  
   
He looks up at the man, eyes wide and earnest. “Do you have any idea what you mean to me, Bones? You really have no idea, do you? You represent my future, Bones. You’re my signature death repellent. You're my fucking beacon of light in the dark. I love my crew and I need them by my side, but I need you too—more than you know, Bones. Whenever I hear your voice, whether it’s those random Southern metaphors that you pull out of your ass or your constant bitching—”  
   
“Oh,  _thanks_ ,” Leonard snaps, voice laced with sarcasm.  
   
“—just, whenever I hear your voice, I know everything’s going to be okay. It’s always your voice I hear and your hands I feel when I’m hurt or when I’m in a jam. I know I’ll live to see another day when you’re there because I know you’ll fix me. Back in the academy, after all those bar fights, the Kobayashi Maru, in the transporter room after Nero, that time with the pregnant Gorn, Nibiru, in the sickbay, on the bridge, in the hospital, right here, right now, you’re always there, Bones. So when I didn’t hear your voice that day, I thought I was done for. You’re not the only one who gets lost on his own. I have no idea how to cope when you’re not around, and it scares the shit out of me when I can’t hear your voice.”  
   
Leonard lets out a choked laugh and shakes his head, letting the tears run down his cheeks. “Good god, how the hell did we end up so ridiculously codependent? I thought we were over that, but apparently I was wrong.”  
   
He can’t help chuckling along, bringing those trembling hands to his lips. “It’s because we’re both got issues the size of New Vulcan. You need to fix people and I need to be fixed, like,  _all the time_. We should probably see a therapist about this stuff, but  _fuck it_  because it works just fine with us. And it works because you’re you and I’m me, and I wouldn’t trade what we have for the world.”  
   
“By that, you mean because no one else would put up with your bullshit, right? Look, just because I’ve taken it upon myself to fix your sorry ass doesn’t mean it’s okay for you to run headfirst towards death’s door,” Leonard says. “I’ll always try my hardest, but like this time, there’ll come a time when I won’t be able to fix you, Jim.”  
   
Jim frowns and pulls one of Leonard’s hands towards his chest, over his heart. “Bones, look at me. For god’s sake just look at me. I’m okay. Whether it was a miracle or not, I’m not a corpse in a body bag—I’m  _alive_. I’m right here in front of you, and that’s my heart beating in my chest. You can feel it, right? And I promise you that next time—because we both know there’ll be a next time—I’ll find my way back to you somehow, and you’ll be the one to make sure this heart keeps beating.”  
   
“Can’t you promise me that you won’t get yourself killed instead? Give this poor old man’s heart a break,” Leonard complains though the shadows have disappeared from his eyes, signalling to Jim that everything's alright again.  
   
“And let you die from ennui instead? Never.” He stands up and pulls the man onto his feet. “C’mon, up you go. Let’s get you to bed. You need to rest up then we’ll work on those legendary hands on yours. And speaking of hearts problems. Jesus Christ, you almost gave me a heart attack when you nearly blew yourself up with that torpedo. I’m never letting you off the ship again.”  
   
“Oh, like you should be talking,” Leonard grumbles, allowing himself be guided into his bedroom. “Calling a man lame when you’re the one with a crippled leg, need I remind you how often you put me through the same situation? The fucking pot calling the kettle black.”  
   
“Hey, you just used a saying I’ve actually heard before,” Jim tells him with a laugh. They exchange the slightest of smiles and the tension between them disappears without a trace. “Computer, lights off, blinds down. I’ll be right here when you wake up, Bones.”  
   
The two of them crawl under the covers. Lying there, facing each other, Leonard mutters, “You don’t need to stay, Jim. You can just leave when I fall asleep, you know my passkey.”  
   
Jim huffs. “You still don’t get it, do you? I’ve already made up my mind. I’m not going anywhere.”  
   
“Is this about what I said yesterday?” Leonard asks. “I told you to forget about it. I’ll be fine, Jim. The sun’s still out and the day’s still young. Go out and be with your own kind.”  
   
“My own kind? What does that even mean?” He heaves an exasperated sigh. “I’m staying because I want to, okay? Do I really have to spell it all out for you? Dammit, Bones, you know I’m no good with this stuff.”  
   
“What the hell are you talking about, Jim?”  
   
He rolls onto Leonard and sits up, effectively straddling the man. It’s awkward and he’s fumbling for the right words, but he has to  _try_  because this is  _Leonard_ , so he clears his throat and says, “Bones, metaphorically speaking, you’re my everything. You’re more than a best friend and family to me, and for these next couple of decades, or however long I’m here for, you better be right there beside me, every step of the way—because I wouldn’t want to go through the rest of this life with anyone else.”  
   
Leonard props himself up with his elbow and gives him a crooked smile. “Well I’ll be damned. Could it be that you’re trying to be romantic with this talk of monogamy, Jim Kirk? I hate to break it to you, kid, but a dumb ass can’t just go and turn into a noble steed. Are you sure you’ve thought this through? It’s not too late to change your mind. Like you said, we’re both pretty fucked up, and the rest of your life might be longer than you think, if I have anything to say about it.”  
   
Jim rolls his eyes and wraps his arms around Leonard’s neck, pulling him close so that their faces are mere millimetres apart. “Shut up, Bones, I know exactly what I’m saying. Out of everything in my life, this is probably the one thing I actually thought through. We’re codependent as fuck, but you keep me functional and I keep you sane. And if monogamy means being stuck with you for the rest of my life, then the longer it is, the better. Now, stop ruining my declaration of romantic intent with your metaphors and thinly disguised insults and tell me you’ll be there.”  
   
Arching a brow, Leonard scoffs. “You make it sound like I’ve got anywhere else to be. ‘course I’ll be there.”  
   
He smiles. “Good, that’s what I wanted to hear.”   
  
“I'm glad you're alive, Jim,” Leonard tells him, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. “I'm so fucking glad you're alive.”   
  
“Me too, Bones. We’re gonna be okay,” he mutters, pulling the man in for a kiss. They break apart moments later and he asks with a breathy laugh, “Now, are you gonna sleep willingly or do I have to put you into a sex-induced coma?”  
   
“Wha—you  _goddamn_  infant!” Leonard gasps when Jim grinds their hips together.  
   
Laughing, Jim leans in for another kiss. “That’s what I thought.”  
   
That night, he dreams of large, steady hands clasped around his.  
   
They’re familiar and warm—so warm.

**Author's Note:**

> Just had to write because of the body bag scene. God, that body bag scene. I was hoping that Chapel would be in STID because I've built her up to be this BAMF nurse in my mind, oh well. The crew was awesome as always, and so was Bones' new wardrobe. Loved his metaphors and awkward flirting. And I like how they just keep dead tribbles around in the med bay for testing purposes. Tribbles--the new lab rats.


End file.
